Knowing Me, Knowing You
by jaded river hussie
Summary: They share a moment of recognition when they first see each other but for whatever reason, they pretend to be strangers. Maybe they really are strangers after all. Drake/Mindy UST. Previously a one-shot, now being expanded.
1. Fall Midterms

**Title: **Knowing Me, Knowing You

**Pairings: **pre-relationship Drake/Mindy, mentions past Josh/Mindy

**Spoilers:** general series

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters from _Drake & Josh_.

**Note:** I have no idea. I've been playing around with this story for months, intending for it to be a one-shot, trying to figure out how to end it so that I could post it. For better or for worse, here it is.

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><p>Mindy Crenshaw has not been to a Greek Life party since her freshman year of college but somehow she ends up having a sorority girl as a roommate her senior year. Surprisingly they get along well. Jordan isn't the perky bubble-headed drunken slut that Mindy was imagining. Jordan is happy and outgoing, proud of her 3.1 GPA, and has been casually dating (in a serious sort of way) the same guy since she was 17. The day Jordan arrives at their on-campus apartment, Mindy sets a "No Parties" rule in place; Jordan just sort of shrugs, saying she's on the Social committee of her sorority and not interested in planning any other parties. She does expect Mindy to be a supportive roommate and to at least make an appearance at the two campus wide parties that they throw every semester.<p>

After mid-terms, Jordan's busy making arrangements for the Punks vs. Preps theme party. The night before the party, as Mindy's working on her thesis, Jordan randomly says that Mindy is not allowed to dress preppy for the party since that's the overall theme of her wardrobe and that it's a hell no to the pearls. Mindy starts to argue because she has nothing else to wear and she has no intentions of wasting money on an outfit she'll only throw in the trash afterwards. Jordan just smiles and says, "Thrift store. We'll go after I do my philanthropy hours tomorrow."

It takes the two of them four hours, a trip to two different thrift stores and a stop by the mall, to compromise on an outfit for Mindy. A slightly off-the-shoulder black long-sleeve mesh shirt, black fishnet stockings to match, cut-off blue denim shorts, and a pair of extremely worn-looking boots. Mindy reluctantly agrees to "pull the prude stick out of her ass"—a comment Jordan prefaced by saying that she meant it in the nicest possible way—and wear only her bra underneath the mesh shirt. She questions Jordan's definition of "punk" but allows her roommate to clip a hot pink hair strip in her hair. She feels that she's gone above and beyond her role of supportive roommate and gladly downs a shot of vodka with Jordan before they walk the nine blocks from their apartment to the sorority house.

Mindy can feel the vibrations of the bass from the sound system when they step onto the porch. Once inside, she makes herself a rum and Coke and Jordan excuses herself to mingle with her sisters. As the rhythmically moving bodies in the living and dining rooms become packed tighter, Mindy hangs back in the foyer. She finishes her drink and pulls out her phone to text Jordan that she's leaving when a few students from her Advanced Quantum Mechanics study group walk in. They convince her to stay a while longer and, after they mix their own drinks and she gets another, they pull her into the middle of the dancing throng in the living room. As much as she hates to admit it, she is having fun. The space around them becomes smaller and smaller as more people filter into the room. After a dozen or so songs, Mindy needs a breather, some water, and to pee. She swears to her study group that she's not leaving. She heads to the bathroom and is grateful that there's a short line. Afterwards she ducks into the kitchen to fill her cup with water, downing half of it in one gulp before refilling it. She's not sure why, but instead of taking the more spacious route from the kitchen through the hallway to the foyer back into the living room, Mindy finds herself pushing open the swinging door to the dining room. She squeezes her way about halfway through the crowded room when she feels like she's being watched. She pauses, her eyes searching the room. Her eyes widen briefly when she sees Drake Parker dancing in the corner with a couple of girls who seem to have forgone the Punks vs. Preps theme in favor of Skanky vs. Skankier. She's slightly uncomfortable with his presence; she doesn't need reminders of tension, failed relationships, and breakdowns—especially not in the form of goading. Knowing that he has her attention, he smiles and winks at her before turning his attention back to Skanky and Skankier. Between the dim lighting and the alcohol haze in her head, Mindy's not entirely sure what she saw but she's starting to feel claustrophobic as she continues to push her way back into the living room.

Mindy tries to ignore thoughts of Drake and Josh and high school and lets herself get lost in the music pumping through the speakers, letting the rhythm flow through her body as she moves in the tight circle that has been formed by her study group. She manages to forget that Drake is there and she relaxes once more, allowing herself to have fun, to laugh. She feels someone bump against her back hard enough that it causes her to stumble into one of the guys. One of the other girls yells, "Jerk!" And before Mindy turns to comment on the unnecessary roughness, she hears Drake's voice, lacking any sincerity, saying that he's sorry. She stops breathing as she turns to face him, his eyes looking down at her, no sign of malice or animosity but definitely intent. He continues, "It's my fault; it's pretty packed in here."

She swallows and resumes breathing, "It's okay."

The girl who called him a jerk, Roma, squints her eyes as she stares at him, "You look really familiar. What hall do you live on?"

"Oh, I'm not a student."

One of the other girls—Carolyn or Karen—wrinkles her nose, "You're a townie?"

Drake scoffs, "No. I'm just passing through town. I met a few of the sisters at a concert earlier this evening and they invited me."

Mindy resists the urge to roll her eyes as Roma squeals, "OMG—you're that guy! You had that song in that Superbowl ad a few years ago!"

Drake gives her his most charming smile as he holds out his hand, "Drake Parker."

The rest of their little group has either never heard of Drake or simply do not care because they return their focus to their drinks and to dancing. Roma giggles, introducing herself, as she gives him a dainty shake and Mindy wonders what it is about musicians, even one-hit wonders, that causes even some smart girls to act like twits. When Roma lets go of Drake's hand, it takes Mindy several seconds, and Roma's elbow in her side, to realize that Drake is offering her his hand, same snake charmer smile on his lips and a spark of something in his eyes that she can't identify but that she knows she doesn't trust. Mindy stares at his hand as she reaches out to firmly grasp it with hers, letting her eyes rise to meet his once her skin makes contact with his, "Mindy." His grip tightens around her hand as his smile flickers, becoming a smirk before changing back as he loosens his grip, "Pleasure."

The claustrophobic feeling is overwhelming and Mindy turns her back to Drake and makes up an excuse about having a breakfast meeting with her advisor to discuss her thesis; she would rather not be hung over and exhausted so she's calling it a night. It's been so much fun and they'll all have to hang out again, maybe go out for drinks and dancing or karaoke, and they'll discuss it the next time the study group meets. Mindy's relieved when she turns around and doesn't see Drake anywhere. She keeps glancing around for him until she makes it to the front threshold, letting her eyes close for a moment and breathing in the cool night air.

"Walk you home?"

"You have got to be kidding me." Mindy reluctantly opens her eyes and looks to her right to see Drake leaning against one of the porch columns, hands in his pocket, that same unidentifiable spark in his eyes. "What do you want?"

He pushes himself off the column. He speaks slowly, deliberately, "To walk you home?"

"How do you know that I didn't drive? Or take a cab?"

"Well, one, Mindy Crenshaw is way too intelligent and responsible and uptight to risk the possibility of drinking and driving. And I know you walked because your roommate's sisters said that the two of you walked here from your apartment."

Mindy gives him a look of disgust before she starts walking down the porch steps, "Wow. Stalk much?"

He follows her, his strides matching hers, "Look, I saw you when I got to the party, I asked a couple of questions. I know you and Josh haven't really been in touch lately; he still cares, you know."

She stops, fire in her eyes, "Yeah, he cares so much that he fucked his Chem TA and waited until he did it a second time to tell me about it."

"Hey, he was wasted the first time and she took advantage of him—he didn't even remember what happened."

"And even knowing all that he still willingly let her sink her claws into him. He was the one who begged me to give having a long distance relationship work, for one semester, and he was the one who couldn't make it work." She shook her head and shrugged, "It doesn't matter. I'm done. Maybe we'll be friends again one day but right now I don't care. I am moving on with my life and he should move on with his instead of having you spy on me," she spits before briskly walking away from Drake.

It didn't take much effort for him to catch up with her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him, causing her to lose her balance. She braces herself, palms pressing firmly against his chest. Getting her feet beneath her, she jerks her arm out of his hand, "Do not grab me."

He ignores her last comment, "Josh didn't ask me to spy on you, okay? I just wanted to see if you were feeling as miserable as he is."

"Well, as you can see, I am not. And, you know what? I don't care what you tell him." She is tired and tipsy. "Look, Drake, it's been a long week and I really…" Mindy trails off when she notices that Drake is unbuttoning his jacket. Her brow furrows, "What are you doing?"

He shrugs his jacket off, "You're shivering," he says as he places it around her shoulders. She looks at him as if he has grown another head. "What?"

"You're being nice to me. We have never liked one another."

"People change. I've grown up. A little." He gives her a sheepish grin. He gestures for her to continue walking and she does. They spend the next several minutes walking to her apartment building in silence. Mindy stands on the stoop and swipes her student ID that doubles as the keycard through the reader. She hears the clicking of the door unlocking and pulls the door open. She hesitates, not trusting her decision, and, turning to face Drake, asks, "Would you like to come up? We've got tea. And vodka."

He grins as he steps onto the stoop, stopping in front of her long enough to make her question what exactly is going through his mind, before he steps inside the building. Mindy lets the door close and steps around Drake onto the stairs. "I'm on the third floor."

She's not sure why she's so nervous and why she's a little scared. She knows that Drake isn't just going to jump her but there is something incredibly unnerving about the way he keeps looking at her. As she sticks her key into the apartment door, she's able to place the look in his eyes as the alcoholic fog in her head begins to slowly dissipate. It's the look one would expect the cat who ate the canary to have in the seconds before it pounces and captures its prey and it's clear who is who in this scenario. She twists the doorknob and pushes the door open. Drake acts the part of a gentleman, letting her walk in first before entering and closing the door behind him and taking a moment to lock it. When he turns around, Mindy is holding his jacket out at arm's length and states, "I didn't invite you up here for sex."

Taking his jacket, he gives her a cheeky grin as he drops unceremoniously onto the sofa, "Really? Because I was trying to figure out if tea or vodka was your code for sex."

The tension in her shoulders ease and a breath accompanied by a noise that borders on a sound of amusement escapes her lips.

"And water will be fine."

For possibly the first time that they've known each other, Mindy smiles at Drake, it's a small smile and it's fleeting, but it's genuine. When she returns from the kitchen with two glasses filled with water, she hands one to Drake then arranges two coasters on the coffee table before setting her glass on one and sitting down on the end of the sofa opposite Drake. She glances nervously around the room as Drake takes a sip of his water. She doesn't know how to carry on a conversation with him that lasts longer than thirty seconds and isn't filled with spite and animosity. Her eyes land on her hands and she sees the cuff of the black mesh shirt she's wearing and her eyes fall onto her chest and the black bra she's wearing underneath it. She cringes as she looks up at Drake and sees him smirking at her.

"Oh my God," she exclaims, mortified in the harsh bright lights of her apartment, looking away from him as she rises to dash into her room to change. She emerges from her room a few minutes later clad in a white tee and light blue pajama shorts, having pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. As she starts to sit back down in her same spot, Drake speaks, "I don't bite."

"I do." The words are out of her mouth before she can stop herself. There are so many reasons why she is not flirting with Drake Parker. "I'm a little drunk."

He cocks an eyebrow and teases, "And I've stayed up to date on my vaccinations, so I don't have to worry about catching any 'Mindy germs.'" He pats the cushion next to him, a challenge in his eyes.

She reluctantly sits next to him, making sure to keep a few inches between them. She tells herself that she's just imagining the electricity crackling in the air around them. That there was never a mutual underlying reason for the hatred they shared. It might not be a thin line between love and hate but in this moment, she's starting to realize that there could possibly be a microscopic line between lust and hate. She has never dwelled on memories of recurring fevered hormonal teenage dreams that more often than not starred her boyfriend's step-brother instead of her adoring boyfriend, not even in the mornings when she would be rudely awakened, disappointed at having been torn away from the realistic sensations, by her alarm clock.

Suddenly she realizes that his fingertips are grazing along her outer thigh and out of nowhere he says, "I always thought you were pretty. Bat shit crazy and kind of a bitch, but pretty."

"I…" She trails off, her gaze falling on to his hand just barely touching her leg. She looks into his eyes and she sees him, the man inside the boy, and the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes that she never in a million years would have expected to be present in Drake Parker's eyes. She's been hiding a similar vulnerability behind her own eyes ever since she first admitted to herself that she liked Josh when they were in high school. Maybe it's the combination of memories and alcohol and the fact that she is growing tired; maybe it's not. She doesn't want to focus on it, she doesn't want to think about it or even begin to analyze it. There are no emotional ties between them but there is his hand on her leg. She clears her throat, "I think we're moving too fast."

The vulnerable look in his eyes gives away quickly to one of mocking as he pulls his hand back. She looks everywhere in the room but at him, scooting a few inches further away from him. She can feel the impending insult and she hates that she's ruined this record-breaking civility between them with her assumptions. She waits for him to hurl some hateful comment about her time institutionalized or maybe about her being a prude and how it's her own fault that Josh messed around.

He surprises her when all he says is, "Okay."

Both of her eyebrows shoot up as she looks at him, "That's it?"

He gives her a half-nod, half-shrug.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Like I said, people change; thoughts change, opinions, priorities, feelings—they can all change. Are you the exactly the same as you were back in high school?"

"No." Mindy leans back, letting her head fall against the sofa cushion so that she's not facing Drake. She closes her eyes—for just a moment—before turning her head towards him. "But I'm not that different from who I was then."

"If you say so." His tone and his eyes indicate that he thinks otherwise.

She shifts, getting comfortable, and closes her eyes again. She can hear Drake shuffling around a bit but he's not talking and she feels herself beginning to drift off to sleep. She registers the brief hum of a cell phone vibrating.

"Mindy?"

She barely opens her eyes. "Hmm?" They close again.

"It was nice running into you."

"Uh-huh."

"Good-night."

"Night, Drake," she mumbles.

She hears the click of the door closing and curls into a ball. She wakes a few hours later, a little disorientated. It takes a couple minutes for her to remember that she really did see Drake but she's not entirely sure what happened. The message light on her cell phone is blinking and she hopes that she remembered to text Jordan and let her know that she made it home safe and sound. The text message is not from Jordan but from Drake, which is odd because as far as Mindy knew, he didn't have her number.

Drake's text is short and to the point: _In case you're wondering, nothing happened._

Mindy smiles; she appreciates his consideration and his maturity. She stretches then stands and heads into her room for the warmth and comfort of her own bed.

_Nothing happened._

As she pulls the sheets and blankets over her body, she can't help but to wonder—_could_ something have happened? Was there any possibility? Or was every implication just a product of her imagination?


	2. Thanksgiving Break

**Summary: ** Mindy and Drake run into each other again when she returns home to San Diego at Thanksgiving.

**A/N:** Bet you didn't see this coming; I know I didn't. It really was supposed to be a one shot and for months it was. I can honestly say that I have no idea what's going to happen with this fic or when. As always, reviews = love! :-)

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><p>.<p>

Insane is the only word apt enough to describe Mindy's mindset when she goes shopping on Black Friday. Honestly, what was she thinking? She wasn't. That or she's a glutton for punishment. Maybe both.

It's been about a month since her encounter with Drake on campus; she hasn't had much time to think about that night since. Mindy has been too busy getting far enough along on her thesis that she feels comfortable taking a break from working on it to study for finals while trying to juggle something that resembles a social life. She's glad for the brief break and the time she gets to spend with her family.

She turns down an aisle and stops dead in her tracks. Standing at the other end of the aisle examining various items on the shelves is not only Drake but Josh as well. It's too much to hope for that she can turn around and duck down another aisle and out of the store without either of them, especially Josh, seeing her. She has spent almost a year going out of her way to avoid seeing him or having to talk to him. He broke her heart and she doesn't love him anymore but the wounds are still too raw.

Drake sees her and gives her a half smile while Josh remains oblivious. Mindy briefly returns his smile before turning around and exiting the aisle. She can hear Josh's voice calling out her name, carrying over the clamoring of the other shoppers. She doesn't stop walking, making her way out of the store as quickly as possible. She sits in her car for a few minutes, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, half expecting Josh to run into the parking lot looking for her. He doesn't and she's not sure if she should feel relieved or disappointed as she starts her car.

She manages to get some shopping done and avoids any further run-ins with Josh. As she deposits her bags in a corner of her bedroom, the message tone on her cell phone sounds.

It's a text from Drake: _What are you doing tonight?_

She frowns at her phone as she types the response, 'Why do you ask?'

_Just wondering if you were free._

She rereads the message several times before asking, 'Free to do what?'

_To hang out._

Mindy sets her phone down on her bed, wondering: What the hell? He can't possibly want to pick up where things left off last month—not that there's anything to pick up. It was just a little simple, harmless flirtation. Except she remembers the way that Drake kept looking at her that night. She remembers feeling like something could have happened, that if it hadn't been some random fluke, them running into each other, that it could have been the start of something.

She grabs her cell phone and responds with, 'When and where?' She hits send, and panic and regret set in almost immediately. She's making plans to spend time alone and sober with Drake Parker.

_'My place. I'm having a jam session with my band at 7 and we should be done around 9 or so. 9:30 work for you? Unless you want to come to rehearsal…'_

There are unwelcomed butterflies multiplying inside of her. Hormonal teenage lust and dreams were one thing but this—she is far too intelligent and too mature to be developing a _crush_ on Drake. She's not some fangirl who's going to squeal and swoon except that there's a small part of her that internally is squealing and swooning just over from his invitation.

She informs him that she has plans to have dinner with a few girlfriends from high school at 6 but that she can drop by afterwards.

_See you tonight. :-)_ He sends his address as well.

Mindy spends forty minutes deciding what she should wear tonight. It's not because she wants to impress Drake; she doesn't. She just wants to look good. She's going for fun and flirty but not so much so that her old friends are going to question her plans for later in the evening and her motives as well.

She makes herself relax while she's out and she refrains from checking the time when she's with her friends. Tonight is not about connecting or reconnecting with Drake. It's about catching up with friends and classmates, talking about post-graduation plans: career, graduate school, being a fifth year senior, and/or romantic relationships.

Pasta and red wine.

Regan is the first to mention Drake and the rumors that he's met someone and that it might be serious because there haven't been any pictures of him with various starlets and random "nobodies" recently. Natalie dismisses the rumors; he just finished his latest tour. Maybe he's just laying low for a while. Even a guy like him needs a break every now and then. Asia makes the connection that the others don't want to make and asks Mindy about Josh.

"Everything is the same. He cheated, we broke up, and I am still not speaking to him." She doesn't mention to them that she ran into Drake nor her plans to see him after this. Rumors are just that. Just because Drake hasn't been caught on camera with someone does not mean that he's not still up to his usual tricks. It certainly doesn't mean that he read into the couple of hours they spent together last month or that she should. It doesn't mean that he feels anything for her, it doesn't mean that he cares about her.

One night, several moments. Just because Drake wants to "hang out" with her doesn't mean anything. Hanging out with Drake is probably going to be just that. There will be no moments of tension, no flirtations, no near kisses, and no memories of high school fantasies. They will not be enemies. They will be two former classmates, acquaintances, reacquainting themselves with one another.

She says goodbye to her friends and drives to Drake's house. From the outside, it doesn't look extravagant or, well, anything like she would have expected Drake Parker's residence to look like. It looks normal and relatively unassuming, not like the home of a moderately well known young musician. She parks on the street and sits in her car for several minutes. She takes a deep breath and gets out of her car. She rings the doorbell and waits. And waits. It's just before 9 and there are five cars between the driveway and in front of the house besides hers.

Finally, Drake opens the front door, a little breathless, and he smiles. "Hey, you made it! We're still rehearsing but we're almost done. I've got a small studio set up in the basement and we're down there. It's cool if you just want to wait here. We're about to run through one last song, so, it's up to you if you want to stay up here or come downstairs."

"I don't want to intrude which I have already done. Just…I'll wait up here."

Drake nods and points out the kitchen and closest bathroom as he ushers her into the living room, telling her to make herself at home, to feel free to grab or make herself a drink, before dashing back downstairs. Mindy debates for a few minutes before she decides to get a beer and a bottle of water out of the fridge and then she settles down on the sofa. Music drifts up through the open door from the basement for the next twenty minutes or so. It's almost nine-thirty when the members of the band start filtering up the stairs and out the front door, peeking into the living room, appraising her, on their way out.

Double-checking that the door is shut and locked after the last band member has left, Drake gives Mindy an apologetic look when he walks into the living room. "I didn't think it was going to last that long. Can I get you anything?"

Mindy glances at her empty beer bottle. She needs to have her wits about her. "No, thank you."

"Would you mind if I have a drink?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Drake Parker?"

He shrugs. "Like I said before, I've been doing a little growing up."

"So it appears." She glances around the room. "It's your home, Drake; you are free to do whatever you want."

He leans over the back of the sofa next to her. There's that same look in his eyes from that night, that cat and mouse, cat that ate the canary look. "Whatever I want?"

Her breath catches in her throat for a second. She's playing with fire. "Within reason."

'_Will you walk into my parlor?' said the Spider to the Fly._

He grins and stands up straight. She can hear the humor and the underlying seduction in his voice. "Relax, Crenshaw. I didn't invite you here for sex."

Her body tenses as she remembers her own words: _I didn't invite you up here for sex._ She clears her throat. "I was really drunk that night."

He chuckles. "I'm just messing with you, chill out."

His smile widens before he turns and walks into the kitchen and Mindy can feel her heart thumping, loud and hard, in her chest. Once he's out of the room, she starts blushing and she catches herself, dropping her head in her hands.

She quietly asks herself, "Omigod, what am I doing?" How can this be? Drake is charming her and she is falling for him; his eyes, his smile, and his words sweet and spicy and smooth. Cinnamon. Patrón. Amaretto sours that remind her of Tootsie Pops.

Drake saunters back into the living room, settling down on the other end of the sofa opposite Mindy. There are ice cubes and a clear carbonated liquid in the glass tumbler he sips from.

"Gin and tonic," he says, setting his drink down. "Are you sure you're okay? I can make you a drink."

"No, I'm good but thank you." Mindy smoothes her hands over her lap. "You have a very nice home."

"Oh! Tour! Come on!" Drake jumps up, offering his hand to Mindy. She fights the smile that wants to form on her lips as she places her hand in his, allowing him to pull her up. He takes her down to the basement first, bubbly and animated as he walks her around the makeshift studio and by the game room. He takes her back upstairs. Sliding doors lead from the living room to the patio including the hot tub surrounded by Tiki torches as well as the in-ground pool in the walled-in backyard. Formal dining room, laundry room, guest room. He takes a breath. "And this is the master bedroom."

Oh, of course Drake Parker would have a California king bed.

"Jacuzzi tub in the master bath. Two sinks, two mirrors, toilet, door separating them from the shower and tub. The house was meant for a family but I've renovated it to suit my needs. Well, the interior designer did. I had no idea what to do. There was a nursery and you probably don't care." Drake claps his hands together. "Well, now you've seen the whole house."

Mindy starts to open her mouth then presses her lips together.

"What?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing."

"What is it?"

Her eyes flicker to his bed then down to the floor before moving to his face, not making direct eye contact. "Is this part of your seduction routine? A tour of your home that ends with your bedroom?"

He reaches out and pulls the door to his room closed. "It has been in the past."

"And now?"

He leans against the wall and shoves his hands into his pockets as he tosses his hair. "I'm somewhat reformed. I was actually kinda serious; I didn't invite you over with an expectation of anything. I mean, I wouldn't be disappointed if we did end up in bed or wherever."

Mindy could suffocate under the weight of her nerves and the heat of his stare. Before last month, he never had the ability to knock her off her guard. Is this how every other girl that he's ever made a successful play for felt at the beginning? She doesn't know if he's doing it intentionally, if it's all a part of his game, but he's making her feel insecure _and_ highly desired. She's out of her league. It doesn't fit with who they are and what they know about each other, what she knows about him.

They shouldn't want each other. She knows better than to let him work his magic on her, to put her under his spell. She doesn't fall for guys like Drake and they don't fall for her. She likes predictability and security. The old predictable Drake from high school has turned into this charismatic young man who is keeping her guessing, keeping her on her toes, keeping her doubting, keeping her wanting. Is it possible that they've both changed so much in only a few years?

"Drake, why did you invite me here?"

He shrugs. "I guess that when I saw you this morning I felt like we had some unfinished business. I thought I'd made it pretty obvious when we ran into each other last month that I was interested. We don't have to do anything, especially if you don't want to."

"Drake, it's not that I don't—" Mindy catches herself. She doesn't know why she's insisting on pretending to fool herself and him that she doesn't feel the attraction between them, not when she knows full well that he feels it too. She can admit to herself that maybe deep down inside she did have a tiny lust based crush on him in high school but she never would have acted on it; she would not have acknowledged it then. It wasn't who she was. Now, this—she doesn't know what this is turning out to be. Who are they?

She clears her throat. "I'm just not comfortable with the thought of you and I…with you and I anything, Drake." She thinks that she can see his confidence slipping. "We _hated_ each other and now all of a sudden you're this decent guy and you're giving me these smoldering looks and I don't know if I should run to the nearest psychiatric facility and submit to an eval or if I should jump you."

He half-shrugs, grinning, and there it is as well, that smoldering look. "I vote for you jumping me."

She snorts, "Yeah, I bet you do."

His entire demeanor suddenly changes and he stands up straight. "Let me take you to dinner when you come home for Christmas."

Mindy's jaw drops. "What? Like a date?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"What about Josh?"

"What about him? He's moved on, you said that you've moved. Sure, he'll be a little upset—"

"A little?"

Drake continues, ignoring her interjection, "—at first, but he'll get over it. Come on, say you'll have dinner with me."

She inhales. "All right, Drake, I will have dinner with you."

Drake smiles triumphantly and in his eyes she can see the cat creeping up behind the canary. If she stays much longer…she doesn't trust herself to stay any longer. Now it's getting a little awkward because she just agreed to go on a date with Drake Parker and they're standing outside his bedroom and she's wondering if he's always had this intensity in his eyes and her fingers are itching to feel the sheets of his bed beneath them.

"I should go."

There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes but he simply says, "'Kay."

He's so calm and cool and _he's_ rattling _her_. He's going to be her undoing.

"Thanks again for having me over. I'll see myself out," she says, turning and heading back down the hall, ducking into the living room to grab her purse. She collides with Drake as she steps into the foyer.

He grabs her shoulders to steady her. "You okay?"

"Fine," she says, wiggling, shaking his hands loose and taking a step back. "Goodnight, Drake."

"Goodnight, Mindy."

She can feel him watching her as she walks to her car and sure enough, he's standing in the doorway when she walks around to the driver's side and he gives her a wave. She waves back and gets into her car. She forces herself not to glance back at him as she starts her car and drives off.


End file.
